Sara's Smile
by Missish
Summary: In which Grissom goes to a seminar in San Francisco and invites Sara to go with him. GSR, obviously.
1. Breakfast

**Summary: **In which Grissom and Sara have breakfast and Grissom announces a trip to San Francisco.

**Disclaimer: **Anthony Zuiker created these characters. I'm just playing with them for my own amusement.

* * *

It was funny, Sara thought, how something that had started out as a crush had turned into something so much more. The times the two of them had strolled along together after one of his seminars had been everything she'd lived for at the time. There hadn't been any kind of romance between them, but there was always a connection; an attraction, even, that drew them towards each other after each talk. They would walk along, their arms brushing together every now and again, discussing everything under the sun. It was Sara's idea of a perfect romance; without any of the intimacy that supposedly came with a romance.

When he went back to Las Vegas, they had written occasionally. He would send an article from a magazine that he thought she would find interesting. She would write back her thanks. It didn't matter whether or not the article really was interesting to her or not. She read it twice, three times, just because he had sent it to her. Because she knew that he had handled it and that he'd been thinking of her when he had slipped it into the envelope along with the brief, obligatory '_I saw this and thought you might find it interesting_'. She thrived on those articles.

The day that he had called her, asking her to come to Vegas to help out while the crime lab was understaffed, she had actually pinched herself to make sure that she wasn't dreaming. It seemed so unreal. Gil Grissom was asking _her_, Sara Sidle, to join his team? In Las Vegas of all places! The way he had asked her seemed as if he thought that she might have to consider the offer. So she had joined in and pretended to think about it, telling him that she'd call him back in five minutes. Those five minutes weren't spent considering whether or not she should go, but staring at the phone in disbelief, a ridiculous smile plastered across her face. His pleased reply when she had assured him that she would be there had kept her going all the way from San Francisco to Las Vegas. If it had been possible to fly on happiness, she would have travelled faster than the speed of light.

She wasn't used to such unadulterated happiness. Her life hadn't been a fairytale until that point and Sara knew that it wouldn't be afterwards. But for that moment in time, she was content to bask in the warmth of Grissom's voice as he'd said, "I look forward to seeing you, Sara."

The breakroom door opened and Nick followed by Warrick came in, interrupting Sara's reverie. They were laughing about something and their laughter made Sara grin.

"Hey Sara," Nick greeted her, grabbing a soda from the fridge, "What are you up to?"

"Waiting for DNA results."

"And daydreaming, too, by the look of it," Warrick teased.

Sara smiled and shook her head slightly. "Just thinking."

Grissom entered the breakroom holding a sheet of paper. He held it up towards Sara. "Results are back," he announced, "Do we know a John Bradshaw?"

Sara jumped to her feet, taking a last sip from her soda can and tossing it into the trashcan. "Yes, we do," she said triumphantly, "Let's call Brass."

After calling Brass, the two of them headed for the SUV in the parking lot. Sara's mind was full of things that she could say, but she wasn't sure she dared to speak them aloud. Her mind always reeled for ages after any conversation with Grissom that seemed to have some kind of subtext hidden beneath its ordinary exterior.

She had been laying out evidence from a case that was due to go to trial soon and that she needed to refresh her memory of. Grissom had wandered in and stood at her side for a few moments, watching in silence as she arranged the photos.

"You once said that it never ceases to amaze you what people do to each other," he said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence, "This is one of the cases that made me believe how right you were."

Sara turned to him. "I said that years ago. You remember?"

She remembered, of course. He had pushed her hair out of her eyes and leant towards her, yelling over the sound of the helicopter, making sure that she was all right. It was the first time since she'd arrived in Las Vegas that they'd had a contact that was more than accidental. It had sent tingles down her spine.

Grissom gave her a smile that Sara liked to think of as 'her smile'. She'd never seen him smile that way at anyone else. It was a pursed lips smile, with a touch of a smirk accompanied by a twinkle in his eye, as if she had caused him some great source of amusement.

"I remember," he assured her. He gestured towards the photos on the table. "A man killed two of his work colleagues because he thought his wife was sleeping with one of them? He didn't even know which one it was. And as it turned out, it wasn't either of them." Grissom shook his head.

"He basically left the door wide open for his wife to go running to the guy she actually was having an affair with," Sara remarked, her voice quiet.

"I heard they're getting married."

Sara was intrigued. "They're getting married?" she repeated. "Wow. How'd you hear that?"

"Brass told me in passing the other day," Grissom replied. "He was reading up on the case for court, too."

He gave Sara one his special 'Sara' smiles. She returned the smile, but inside her heart was pounding. They were standing so close. They often stood that close but nothing changed. The effect on her heartbeat was the same every time.

"The two biggest motives to kill are money and love," Grissom informed Sara, "Which is strange, considering how different they are."

"Money is a material thing," Sara agreed, "But love – love is – " she broke off as her eyes met Grissom's. Whatever she had been about to say flew from her mind. Grissom's hand touched hers lightly.

"Love changes people in a way that nothing else can."

They stood gazing at each other for a few moments, until Sara felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks and she broke away, clearing her throat and muttering awkwardly about tidying away the evidence. Grissom said nothing. He watched her for a moment then, touching her arm lightly as he went, left the room.

Sitting in the car with him next to her, Sara suddenly had the urge to laugh. She felt the corners of her mouth twitch and Grissom took his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at her.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said hurriedly.

He raised one eyebrow as he turned back to the road and Sara glanced out of the window to hide her smile from him.

When they reached Bradshaw's home, Brass greeted them, a frown puckered across his forehead.

"Your John Bradshaw? Dead."

Grissom and Sara stared at him in disbelief. "Dead?" Grissom repeated.

"OD-ed." He jerked his thumb towards the house. "See for yourself."

Half an hour later, they left, following the coroner with the body out of the door. Nothing seemed suspicious about the circumstances of Bradshaw's death. He'd OD-ed, plain and simple. It was frustrating because both Grissom and Sara would have loved nothing more than to put Bradshaw behind bars. Five bullets were too many to inflict upon a human being, but that's what he had done to Stuart Bryant. The gun missing five bullets in his apartment practically confirmed it.

The sun was rising as the two of them drove back towards the lab in silence, each brooding on the injustice of life. It was only when her stomach rumbled loudly that Sara broke free of her thoughts, covering her stomach with her hand and blushing.

Grissom smirked kindly. "When was the last time you ate?"

"I can't remember," Sara admitted. "I think it was the doughnut I picked up on the way home from yesterday's shift.

"You need to eat more regularly than that, Sara," Grissom scolded her, "Your body can't run off energy drinks alone."

Something in Sara was always thrilled when Grissom scolded her. It was his strange way of showing her that he cared. She pretended that it annoyed her, but the truth was, it was the exact opposite.

"I eat fine," she replied defiantly. Her stomach rumbled again, contradicting her words.

Grissom suddenly swerved the car into the inside lane and pulled into the parking lot of a nearby restaurant. He stopped the engine then turned towards Sara who stared at him curiously.

"Why are we here?" she asked slowly.

"To get you something to eat," Grissom replied, opening his door and climbing out. Sara followed his lead.

The restaurant was empty besides a waitress and a weary looking businessman who was meekly attempting conversation with the overly perky waitress. He seemed grateful when she turned her attention towards the newcomers.

"Hey there," she greeted them with a wide grin, "You guys have got the whole place to yourselves so go ahead, pick a table and I'll be right there to take your order." She thrust two menus into Grissom's hands and bounced off towards the double doors that led to the kitchen.

"I feel tired just looking at her," Sara muttered to Grissom. He wasn't listening. He was too busy inspecting each table that they walked past. By the expression on his face, none of them passed his inspection.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," he murmured, running a finger across a table, and then wrinkling his nose at the gooey substance that attached itself.

Sara's stomach rumbled again. Feeling both hungry and bold, she grabbed Grissom's arm and pulled him into a booth, then slid in opposite him. "Yes, it was," she assured him, "I'm starving and I'm sure this place is fine."

Grissom gingerly opened the menu. Sara watched him for a moment then ducked her head in embarrassment when he looked up and met her eyes. She hurriedly opened her menu.

"The pancakes sound good," she remarked.

"They do," Grissom agreed. "With blueberries or strawberries?"

"Blueberries. The strawberries never taste right. Too processed."

Grissom nodded approvingly as the waitress re-appeared, her blonde hair swaying in her ponytail as she beamed down at them both.

"You guys decided whatcha wanna eat?"

"Two orders of blueberry pancakes," Grissom replied, handing her the menus.

"Sure, blueberry pancakes coming right up. You want anything to drink with that?"

"I'll have a coffee," Sara told her. Grissom frowned slightly. She raised her eyebrows at him, daring him to contradict her.

"Can we get a jug of water with two glasses?" he asked.

The waitress beamed again. "Sure thing!" She bounced off.

"You shouldn't have coffee," Grissom informed Sara.

Sara shrugged. "If it'll keep me going, I'll take it." She paused. "Who's paying for this?"

"I am."

Grissom's authoritative response took Sara by surprise. She tried to tell herself that Grissom was just taking care of his worker and that if she had been Nick or Warrick, he'd have done the same. But there was a glint in his eye that told Sara she was wrong. It made her breath catch in her throat. She could hardly dare to think that they might be sitting here because Grissom wanted to break away from their supervisor-boss exterior. The thought of him suddenly deciding that he wanted her, after years of her chasing him, of the uncertainty of not knowing how he would respond to her from one day to the next, sent her mind reeling. She couldn't deal with that. At least not there, not then. Not when they seemed so at ease in each other's company. It reminded her of the time they'd gone to lunch in the middle of a seminar in San Francisco. They had eaten waffles and Grissom had given her a brief overview of what he was going to talk about after lunch. Sara had asked him some questions that had caused him to smile at her. It was that day that Sara had first seen that smile that she'd come to think of as 'her' smile.

Neither spoke for a few minutes. Sara couldn't decide if the silence was comfortable or not. She was relieved when the waitress brought over the coffee and jug of water.

"I'll get your two glasses now."

Sara took a sip of her coffee then pulled the mug away from her mouth sharply. "Ouch!"

Grissom watched her with an amused expression playing on his lips. "Hot?"

Sara bit her lip and nodded. As soon as the waitress re-appeared with the glasses, Sara poured herself some water from the jug and gulped it down. It eased the burning sensation in her mouth.

"Water doesn't actually stop the burning, it just gives cools the mouth down," Grissom informed her.

Sara didn't care. She pushed her coffee mug to one side to let it cool. Again, neither of them spoke. Sara picked up a sugar packet from the container on the side of the table and twirled it through her fingers. She so badly wanted to say something to Grissom but her mind had temporarily abandoned her. The only thing she could think to talk about was the case and she didn't want this, this whatever it was that they were doing, to slip into just an ordinary work breakfast.

"You're nervous," Grissom observed, staring pointedly at the sugar packet in Sara's hand. He gently prised her fingers apart and slid the sugar packet from her hand to his. Sara stared at their touching fingers, her heart pounding. What was he doing?

"I'm not nervous," she lied.

Grissom cleared his throat. "Sara, I – I've been invited to go to San Francisco to do another seminar there."

Sara forced a smile, wondering what this was leading to. "Really? That's great."

"I was wondering if – "

Whatever Grissom had been wondering was interrupted by the waitress appearing at the end of their table and setting down a plate of blueberry pancakes in front of both of them. Sara's stomach rumbled approvingly.

"So what you two doing out so early in the morning?" the waitress asked them. "Usually the only people we get in here so early are people coming out of work."

"We are," Grissom informed her. "We work the night shift at the Las Vegas crime lab."

The waitress stared in amazement at the two of them. "For real?"

Sara hid a smile. "For real."

The waitress glanced at Grissom, a flicker of recognition on her face. "I've seen you on the news!"

Grissom smiled politely. The waitress got the message that they wanted to be left alone. She left.

"You're practically famous," Sara remarked, digging into her stack of pancakes.

Grissom watched Sara as she took a mouthful of blueberry and pancake. A trickle of blueberry syrup ran down her chin and she quickly caught it with her finger and licked it off. It was as she did that that she noticed Grissom watching her, his face full of a mysterious intent.

"Come to San Francisco with me."

Sara gaped at Grissom in disbelief, hardly daring to believe that she had heard his words correctly. Realising that her gaping expression probably wasn't terribly attractive, she peered down at her plate, finding sudden interest in the blueberries. Her mind whirled. If indeed Grissom had just said what she thought he had said, he was asking her to go on holiday with him. Or at least, that's what it seemed. She didn't know what to say. He hadn't asked her to go with him. He had told her to. He was being commanding. Although Sara had a problem with authority, somehow this was different. She liked the commanding attitude that Grissom was giving her.

They ate in silence. This time the silence was comfortable but wary. Two businessmen entering the restaurant at the same time that Grissom's phone started ringing broke their silence. He answered his phone within two rings.

"Grissom … Oh, hi … we stopped for something to eat. Our case is closed … we'll be back to do the paperwork soon … yep, bye."

He hung up and answered Sara's questioning gaze by informing her that the caller had been Greg, wanting to know where the two of them were. And then they were back to that silence again. Sara's plate was nearly cleared, as was Grissom's. They couldn't hide in the pretence of eating for much longer. So Sara bit her lip then spoke.

"San Francisco, hey? Back where we first met."

Grissom nodded, avoiding Sara's eyes. "It's only for three days. We both need to take a break from work."

"We do," Sara agreed cautiously.

"It's being held in the same building that our seminar was in. I heard that they've renovated it, actually."

Sara giggled. "I hope so. I nearly fell to my death wrenching open a window there."

Grissom gave a smile of vague amusement. He swallowed his last bite of pancake and pushed his plate to one side, dabbing at his mouth with his napkin. "I thought it might be fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes. To go back to where we met and see how everything has changed."

"Do you think it'll have changed much?"

"I'll see when I get there."

Sara ran a finger around the edge of her plate to collect the last remnants of blueberry sauce. She was about to suck the sauce from her finger when she suddenly had an image of herself from Grissom's perspective and thought how flirty that action would look. Instead she transferred the sauce to her fork and licked it from there.

"You didn't have to do that, Sara." Grissom gestured towards the fork when Sara looked blankly at him. "I wouldn't have thought that you were flirting with me if you'd licked the sauce from your finger."

Sara bobbed her head as she felt a blush creep onto her cheeks. He knew her too well. For someone who claimed not to like people all that much, Grissom seemed to be pretty good at analysing her behaviour.

The waitress re-appeared at their table and handed Grissom the bill. "I hope you both enjoyed your pancakes."

"They were delicious. Thank you," Grissom said politely.

Sara reached for her purse as Grissom got his wallet out of his pocket. "I'll pay for my meal."

Grissom placed his hand over hers, causing butterflies to erupt from the pit of Sara's stomach. "I said I was paying for this and I am."

"Let me pay for my meal," Sara begged, hating to feel that she was taking advantage of his kindness. Grissom squeezed her hand and mouthed the word 'No'. Sara sighed and reluctantly put her purse away.

The waitress took Grissom's credit card and the two of them waited silently while she processed their order. When she returned, she wished them a good day, adding to Grissom, "Keep up your good work!" Sara had to look away as she tried hard not to laugh.

It was almost completely light by the time they got outside. Sara couldn't remember the last time she'd seen the early morning from somewhere other than a crime scene. They got into the SUV, but Grissom didn't start the engine. Instead he turned to his companion, a serious expression on his face.

"Sara, I met what I said. I – I want you to come to San Francisco with me."

Sara swallowed. She didn't know how to respond to his request. She so badly wanted to go with him. Going back to where they met sounded like something that couples did after they'd been married for ten years. The thought made her smile to herself, causing Grissom to shoot a questioning glance in her direction but she ignored it. He was confusing her. After all of the things that had transpired between the two of them over the years, Sara still had no idea where she stood with Grissom. As work colleagues, they had a good relationship. On a more personal level, their standing was rocky at best. And here Grissom was, inviting her to San Francisco with him? It almost hurt her head to contemplate his motives.

"Why?" she asked him quietly.

Grissom obviously had been anticipating this question. He sighed. "Because we both need a vacation and I've been invited to go to the place where we first met. I thought it might be – uh, nice, to be able to walk along the seafront together again. I – I miss you Sara."

Sara thought she was speechless. But before she was aware of what she was doing, she'd opened her mouth and the word, "Yes," had come blurting out. Grissom looked up at her, surprise registering on his face.

"Yes?" he repeated cautiously, as if he thought he might have misheard her.

Sara suddenly became more confident in her words. "Yes! Yes, I'll come to San Francisco with you. I'd like that."

They gazed at each other for what seemed like ages, both with gentle smiles on their faces. Grissom was giving Sara 'her' smile. And Sara was returning 'her' smile with one that Grissom had begun to think of as 'his' smile.

Anything could happen in three days, they both knew that. Sara saw Grissom's eyes flicker onto her lips before he turned and started the engine. She smiled to herself. He hadn't completely opened up to her but it was a start. That was good enough for her. For now.

* * *

**A/N: **When I wrote this, I just wanted it to be a one chapter story butI know it seems like there should be more. I might continue this at some point. No guarantees though!


	2. Details

**A/N: **I got several reviews of Chapter 1, asking me to continue this story. And I have.  
This is more of a transition chapter than anything so bear with me!

* * *

Sara and Catherine were sitting in silence in the breakroom. Sara was sipping a cup of tea and flicking through a forensics journal that she'd already read. Catherine was absently running a finger around the rim of an empty coffee cup, her mind on a case.

Both jumped a little when Grissom burst in, grinning inanely.

"What's got you so happy?" Catherine asked, swinging one leg over the other.

"I've booked the hotel in San Francisco," he announced, still grinning.

Sara looked up, slightly alarmed. This was the first time Grissom had mentioned San Francisco since their breakfast almost a week ago. She hadn't wanted to mention it to him in case he had changed his mind and that he'd realised asking her to go with him was a mistake. His words weren't implying that he was taking anyone to San Francisco with him, but then again, the grin on his face seemed out of place for someone who had done nothing more than book a hotel room.

"That's great Gil," Catherine said uncertainly, "But, uh, it's just a hotel, right? Why the grin?"

Grissom smiled smugly. He went over to the coffee pot and poured himself half a cup of coffee. "Who used all the coffee up?" he demanded.

"That would be me," Catherine admitted with a shrug.

Grissom seemed unconcerned by this. He sat down on the couch and took a sip of coffee. His grin was gone but there was still a happy sparkle in his eyes.

"So – " Catherine prompted.

Grissom feigned confusion. Catherine rolled her eyes. "Your grin, Gil, come on."

He was about to reply when Nick and Warrick barged in. They were both dressed in suits and were slapping palms about something.

"We got him!" Warrick said triumphantly.

"The Belson case?" Grissom checked.

Nick nodded. "Yup. Got him like that." He clicked his fingers. "Jury was out less than an hour."

"Nice work." Grissom nodded approvingly.

Warrick and Nick sat down on the couch. Catherine turned her attention back to Grissom, but she didn't get a chance to question him again.

"Sara and I are going to San Francisco," he declared.

Catherine, Nick and Warrick exchanged bemused glances. "Yeah?"

Sara stared intently at an article in the forensics journal as Catherine twisted around in her seat to face Sara. She looked up casually. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, we're going to San Francisco." Her words sounded awkward and she knew it. So did the other CSIs in the room. They turned back to Grissom.

"I've been invited to do a seminar there and I asked Sara to come with me," he explained calmly.

Catherine coughed disbelievingly. "Wait, what? You're going to San Francisco and you invited _Sara_ to go with you?"

"Yes."

An awkward silence fell over the room. Sara cleared her throat and got to her feet. "I, uh, I'm going to go and find Greg," she muttered.

Once she was gone, Grissom noticed Catherine staring at him inquisitively. He blinked at her. "What?"

Catherine blinked back. "_What_?" she repeated.

Nick got up and moved towards the door. "I'm going to go and … yeah, you coming Warrick?"

"Ohh yeah." The two of them vanished out into the corridor.

"Do you have some kind of problem with Sara and I going to San Francisco together?" Grissom inquired, leaving the couch and sitting on the seat opposite Catherine.

"No. No." Catherine shook her head. "It's just that – well, Gil, you and Sara? Is that really such a good idea?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm talking about her crush on you and you leading her on."

Grissom seemed genuinely hurt by this accusation. Catherine laughed gently. "Gil, really. I'm just saying; if that girl comes back from San Francisco with a broken heart, you're going to have a lot to answer for. And a lot of people to answer to."

She got up and left the room. Grissom stared after her. His expression was unreadable.

* * *

Sara was leaving ballistics and was heading towards Grissom's office to report her findings when Greg appeared by her side.

"What's this I hear about Grissom taking you to San Francisco with him?" he demanded, "How come he's taking you and not me?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure Greg," Sara replied evasively. "Maybe you should ask him yourself."

"It's not fair!" Greg pouted.

Sara laughed and placed a hand on Greg's shoulder. "I'm sure he'll take you somewhere else with him if you ask nicely."

Greg veered off, muttering something under his breath. Sara smiled to herself and shook her head as she entered Grissom's office.

"What are you smiling at?" Grissom asked, slipping off his glasses.

"Greg being Greg," Sara shrugged. She handed him the manila folder. "Details from ballistics."

Grissom nodded but he placed the folder on his desk. He signalled for Sara to take a seat. Trying to fight back her nerves, Sara sat down. He was going to talk about San Francisco; she knew it. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to go any more. It wasn't that she didn't want to go on vacation with Grissom and spend three days with him, without the interruptions of their job between them, but the thought of the awkward situations that could arise between the two of them made her wonder if the trip was such a good idea.

"We're leaving a week Sunday," Grissom informed her. "The seminar begins on Monday morning."

"How are we getting there?" Sara asked.

"We'll drive. We can take it in turns," Grissom added, giving Sara 'her' smile.

Sara attempted to smile back but there were so many thoughts swirling around in her head that she gave up. She leant back in the seat. "Are you sure about this?"

Grissom frowned slightly. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Sara admitted, avoiding his gaze. She got to her feet. "Let me know when you want me to pay you for my hotel room." Without giving Grissom an opportunity to reply, she left his office.

For the rest of the shift, Sara found herself avoiding Grissom. She wasn't doing it on purpose and she would have spoken to him if it was necessary, but it wasn't so she stayed out of his way. When she finally got home, she had a message on her answering machine. She hit play.

"Sara, it's Grissom. I've got a few more details about the trip. We'll – uh, call me and I'll tell you them."

Sara rolled her eyes. He would make it so that she had to call him, wouldn't he? Why couldn't he just have told her the details in the message like a normal human being?

Snatching up the phone, Sara hit the speed dial button for Grissom's number. After only one ring, the phone was answered.

"Grissom."

"Hey. It's Sara."

"I take it that you got my message then?"

Sara mentally rolled her eyes. "Yes Grissom, I got your message."

"Good." He fell silent for a moment. "Do you want to know where we're staying?"

"Sure."

"A little B&B called Golden Gate Bed & Breakfast."

Sara smirked. "That's an imaginative name for a B&B, don't you think?"

There was a slight awkward pause on the other end of the line and Sara wondered if she had said something wrong. "But I'm sure it's great," she added hastily.

Grissom murmured vaguely. Sara frowned. "Grissom?"

"Yes?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes," came his curt reply. Sensing that he may have sounded a little too brisk, he continued more gently, "I'm fine. I – uh, I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."

"Okay," Sara said cautiously. "Is there anything else about the trip that you need to tell me?"

"Not at the moment. If I think of anything else, I'll let you know. Bye." With that, he hung up, leaving Sara gazing at the receiver with a somewhat confused expression on her face. Grissom had seemed so excited about the hotel earlier that day. He had even sounded enthusiastic when he told her the name. But somewhere in their brief phone conversation, that enthusiasm had gone.

Sara hung up the phone and shrugged it off. It was probably just Grissom being Grissom.

* * *

The week passed by uneventfully and before Sara knew where she was, it was Friday. She hadn't spoken to Grissom about their trip to San Francisco since their phone conversation but she knew that she had to say something to him now. Finishing up in the layout room, she ambled towards Grissom's office. As she passed the DNA lab, she spotted him inside, listening with a raised eyebrow to something that Greg was telling him. Sara poked her head around the door.

"Grissom?"

Grissom looked up and Greg turned around.

"You got a minute?"

Grissom glanced at Greg then shrugged. "Wait in my office."

Sara obediently went to Grissom's office and flopped into the seat in front of the desk. A minute later, Grissom entered. He shut the door behind him before sitting down behind the desk.

"What can I do for you?" he asked her.

Sara had to resist the urge to give an innuendo-laden response. Instead she said, "San Francisco, Grissom. We're supposed to be leaving in two days."

Grissom nodded thoughtfully. "Yes. We are."

When he said nothing more, Sara sighed in frustration, causing Grissom to meet her gaze with a frown.

"Do you expect me to somehow know where and when we're meeting or do you plan on telling me?"

A light seemed to flicker on in Grissom's mind and he smiled weakly. "Ah, yes. I'll pick you up on Sunday morning, at around eight. In the morning. We need to get an early start."

"Okay." Sara nodded slowly. She couldn't think of anything else so she got to her feet. "I guess I'll see you on Sunday morning then." She opened the door and was about to leave when Grissom said her name. She turned to face him.

"I – uh, hope that you're okay with this," he said awkwardly.

Sara raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Okay with what?"

Grissom used his right index finger to indicate Sara and then himself. "Us. You and me. Going to San Francisco like this."

Sara fought hard to keep a blush from rising onto her cheeks. "I'm fine with it, Grissom. Don't worry." With that, she was gone. It was only once she was outside the lab and in the fresh air that she let out the breath that she didn't even realise she'd been holding. Warmth flooded her cheeks. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time, going on a mini vacation with Grissom. Now she wasn't so sure if her heart could take it.

* * *

To be continued ... (ooh!)


End file.
